THIS PASTA IS NOT FOR CERTAIN AUDIENCES AND NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!
I lay down, getting ready to fall asleep. The only noises I hear are nearby wildlife, and my little child’s mobile playing a soft, tender tune. Until I hear my husband, calmly singing along with the tune and tending to our newborn. I felt good of his accomplishments, finally getting along and accepting her. Until dread pours inside of me, my husband left for his work a little bit ago. I glance outside to see if his car was parked in the area. Only my minivan was on the driveway and his car was nowhere to be seen.
I jump up startled, trying to see who was with my little girl. Until I freeze in terror from what I hear, I listen to the baby monitor, frozen like a statue. The unknown figure picking up his tune, rising in voice and speed, until I hear a grotesque sound of cracking bones and something being ripped open brutally, accompanied with a muffled cry from my little child. Before I knew it, there was only silence. He couldn’t have done what I thought, could he? I suppress my voice with my hands, holding back relentless tears and recent memories. I sneak into my closet, cowering silently and holding an urge to scream or upchuck in disgust. After a couple of thoughts, I attempt to take action and escape. However, for some reason with all of my might, I couldn’t move. I tried to recollect myself for so long but I was just a pathetic, emotional wreck that refused the situation at hand and laid there cowering like an idiot. But what could I do about it, I had lost everything that mattered me. I hear very faint footsteps in the distance, increasing in noise as the man slowly advances in my direction, accompanied with the floorboards slightly adjusting to the steps of the man, creating somewhat loud creaking noises.
Another diminished creek is heard. I glance upwards. Oh no. My door slowly opens and the fear inside me multiplies. In a quick reaction, I shut the bi-fold closet doors, doing it as mutely as possible. Now I have to stay frozen, one mistake and I was a dead woman. The remaining noise I hear are now the unnaturally tender, and gentle, breathing of the man. Darkness was all around me, the only thing I could see were the slivers in the openings of the door. Luckily, I wasn't claustrophobic. If I was, I would probably already be dead. After a couple minutes of fearing for my life, once again I hear silence. He never left my room and there was no way he could leave without making noise, so where the hell was he? I slowly look underneath the bi-fold doors, trying not to make any noises. He was right in front of the closet. I saw his shoes as he stood there, still calmly breathing. Petrification had now consumed my mind, he was going to look here. I was dead. The door slowly started to open. I saw the man’s hands leisurely open the bi-fold doors. His hands were smeared with my child’s blood. The man scrapped the door handle with his long, sharply cut fingernails. The door was now completely ajar and I was hiding in the back underneath a pile of clothing, trying to be as disguised as I possibly could. He stands there, acting inanimate and idle, but still exhaling as usual. Did he know I was here? He was just looking around, holding something distorted and mangled. I looked at the handle of the object… it was an arm. It was her arm. He had created a monstrosity that he most likely considered art… out of my baby girl.
Part of me wanted to attack the psychotic bastard, but I would probably be easily butchered. Besides, my mind was in ruins. Everything that matters to me in life have just gone up in smoke. Relievingly, the man starts to nonchalantly walk away. So he doesn't see me. Thank God. But as he goes to the exit, I start to worry because he immediately halts once more. What was this guy’s problem? I hear a sentence come from the man, the dialogue absolutely frightens me, as I fear for what comes next.
“By the way, I know you’re here…”